Blinded
by Charmed-13
Summary: How far are you willing to go for love? AN: Chapter 3 up! And this is where I sit back and anxiously wait for reviews...
1. Prologue

**SUMMARY:** How far are you willing to go for love?

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line, and a few characters.

-

**Prologue**

_Never start something you can't finish. That's what I've always been told. But since when has anyone ever known me to listen to good advice?_

_I'm stubborn. I'm reckless. I'm proud. But above all, I'm a DuGrey. That pretty much sums it up, wouldn't you say?_

_Don't get me wrong; I'm not all bad. And my life isn't quite as pitiful as you'd think. I've got pretty much everything you could ever want – looks; wealth; smarts; even popularity. You'd think that would be enough. Well, you thought wrong._

_As much as it seems like I've got everything, there's always something more out there._

_I don't know what I'm looking for. I don't know what I expected. All I know for sure is that everything changed the moment I saw her._

_Those eyes. They still haunt me, an unexpected flash of deep blue eyes that sparkle with the promise of – the promise of what, exactly? Salvation? Innocence? Understanding? All three, perhaps. But then again, maybe I saw in her eyes only what I wanted to see._

_Rory Gilmore. My one weakness._

_She saw through everything – saw through the walls I'd painstakingly put up around me. And though I thought at first she understood me, it became clear as time went on that she didn't. You see, my defences had become so impenetrable that she couldn't help seeing what everyone else saw. I couldn't blame her for that._

_Sometimes I'm inclined to think it's a curse, being a DuGrey. What good is it being all that I am if no one really wants to see beneath the surface?_

_I know what you're thinking: "Poor little rich boy, feeling sorry for himself." And I despise myself for being this weak, but…I can't help it. Especially when it comes to her._

_As I sit here now thinking back on everything that's happened, it puzzles me how I struggle to put into words all my jumbled thoughts and emotions. I never used to be this way. This is not who I am! Maybe that's what I resent most._

_She doesn't even know. I don't think she gives a damn, anyway._

_But that's not going to stop me. One way or another, I will get what I want. Because I always get what I want. Just wait and see._

-


	2. Chapter 1

**SUMMARY:** How far are you willing to go for love?

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line, and a few characters. Chapter title is borrowed from '405', by Death Cab for Cutie.

-

**Chapter 1: You keep twisting the truth; that keeps me thrown askew…**

Friday afternoon, and the halls of Chilton Prep echoed with the riotous sounds of students filing out of their classrooms, each and every one of them eagerly anticipating the start of their weekend.

"So? Party at Sandra's tomorrow night?"

"You bet!"

"Pete! Don't forget: lunch at Alistair's on Saturday!"

"Call me, okay?"

Overhearing the snatches of conversation pervading the hallway, Tristan DuGrey smiled as he strolled leisurely to his locker, surrounded as always by his friends. Of course, he had his reasons for looking forward to the weekends.

Firstly, it gave him a two-day reprieve from the monotony of school life. 48 blissful hours of not having to deal with morning traffic, and of not having to fast-talk his way out of being sent to Headmaster Charleston's office for sauntering into class late as always.

Secondly, it gave him some much-needed time away from his devoted – albeit unbearably _insipid_ – companions and groupies. As much as he'd gotten accustomed over the years to being the undisputed King of Chilton, the constant, unrelenting adulation sometimes proved to be the bane of his existence. He couldn't go anywhere on campus without having a procession of admirers trailing behind him. Lunchtimes at school were always elaborate affairs, with him holding court amidst certified members of the 'in' crowd.

What it came down to at the end of the day was that his life was really nothing more than an endless, suffocating parade of social obligations and beautiful hangers-on. And on days when he felt himself teetering dangerously close to the edge of his sanity, Tristan would remind himself the weekend was just a few days away, and that would be enough to keep him going.

And then of course there was his third reason.

Tristan couldn't help frowning as a fleeting image of cornflower blue eyes flashed across his mind. _Dammit_. Shrugging his backpack off, he quickly yanked open his locker door and proceeded to stow away his textbooks, hoping to distract himself. He could hear his friends talking behind him, all of them waiting for him to finish up, but he took his time, not really in a hurry to be anywhere.

"So what's the plan for the weekend, DuGrey?" Tony asked behind him. "I hear Carrie's is throwing a party. Might be worth a look, what do you say?"

"Sure, why not?" Tristan shrugged noncommittally. He paused, checking his cell phone for new messages. "Josh's birthday party is on tomorrow night, too. Crystal just messaged saying it's gonna be big."

"On the one hand, Carrie's a babe, and all her hottie friends are gonna be at her party," Owen mused. "But then again, I heard it's gonna be free-flow alcohol all night at Josh's."

Leaning against the row of lockers next to him, Bryan looked around at the others. "So what's the consensus?"

Three pairs of eyes swung as one to look at Tristan, awaiting his response. He smirked. "Looks like it's gonna be a busy weekend. So anyway," he swung his locker door shut and stole a glance at his watch. "I gotta go. See you later."

With one final wave to his friends, Tristan walked away. The corridors were becoming more crowded now that the school day was officially over. He frowned, vaguely annoyed. But then he brightened considerably upon catching a glimpse of a familiar blue-eyed brunette headed his way. "Hey, Mary."

"Do you mind keeping the lechery down to a minimum today?" Rory Gilmore rolled her eyes, obviously none too thrilled to have run into the notorious King of Chilton. She hugged her books to her chest, almost as though she hoped that would be enough to discourage Tristan from coming any closer.

"What's the matter?" Tristan leered, leaning in. "Afraid you'll like it?"

Startled, Rory backed away, her blue eyes wide and indignant. "In your dreams, Perv Boy."

"You know you like me," Tristan teased, reaching out to playfully tug a lock of her flowing brown hair.

"You're impossible!" Jerking away from him, Rory pushed past and strode away, her delicate face creased in a scowl.

Tristan grinned, watching her rapidly retreating back. "See you on Monday!" Shaking his head in amusement, he went on his way, walking past the elaborate arched school doors that led to the parking lot. Off to one side, he could see a small figure he recognized as Rory making her way to the bus stop. _Nose buried in a book, as usual._ He smiled again, wistful.

"Still lusting after little Miss Perfect, I see," a dulcet voice spoke up behind him.

Tristan grinned. He turned around slowly. "Hey, gorgeous."

Anna Whittington stood before him, emerald eyes crinkling in amusement. "Hey, weirdo."

"_Weirdo_?" Tristan raised his eyebrows, the smile never leaving his lips.

She came closer, scanning the surroundings as she did so. "Sweetie, as your best friend, I think it's my God-given duty to bring you back to reality whenever you do anything like that."

"Like what?"

"Staring off into the distance at Rory Gilmore, with this love-struck look on your face," Anna elaborated, tucking a few strands of her auburn hair behind one ear. "Isn't it time you put this whole obsession behind you?" Was it Tristan's imagination, or did she sound just a little bit annoyed? But the brilliant smile she sent his way dispelled his doubt in an instant.

"Yeah well, I can't help it," Tristan shrugged easily. They turned and began walking toward Tristan's car, which lay gleaming in the afternoon sun just a short distance away. "Got plans for the day?"

"Not at the moment." Anna ran an admiring hand over the smooth curves of Tristan's deep blue Porsche Boxster. "By the way, when are you gonna let me drive this baby?"

"Not happening anytime soon, babe," Tristan laughed, unlocking the car doors. Pausing a moment to toss his backpack inside, he straightened up again. "You wanna come over later?"

"Sure."

"Need a ride?"

Anna shook her head. "Thanks, but no. My dad let me use his car today."

"Okay then." Leaning against his car door, Tristan gazed at her. "So I'll catch you later?"

"Absolutely," Anna nodded. "Later."

Tristan watched her stroll off, her gait confident and easy. And then almost guiltily (although he had no reason to feel that way), he snuck a glance in the direction of the bus stop once again. Rory was still there, oblivious to her surroundings. For a moment, he wondered if he should walk over to her and keep her company. _What's the harm in that, right?_ But then he heard Anna's voice echoing in his head, loud and true.

"_Isn't it time you put this whole obsession behind you?_"

Maybe Anna had a point.

Determinedly, Tristan got into the car and gunned the engine. It was just a stupid high school crush, nothing more. Anna was just being dramatic, that was all. Steeling his resolve, Tristan pulled out of the parking lot, anxious to get as far away from the school as possible. There was no way he was going to spoil his weekend thinking about this.

-


	3. Chapter 2

**SUMMARY:** How far are you willing to go for love?

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line, and a few characters. Chapter title is borrowed from 'Something Beautiful', by Robbie Williams.

-

**Chapter 2: All your friends think you're satisfied, but they can't see your soul…**

"This is how life should be."

Roused out of his daydream, Tristan turned his head slightly, squinting his eyes against the glare of the late afternoon sun as he did so. "Abso-freakin-lutely." After all, what was better than lazing by the pool on a warm Saturday afternoon? He sat upright in his chaise longue and reached for his iced tea. "This beats sitting in Mr Engel's Calculus class any day."

Indeed, it was a beautiful day: not too hot, with a perfect cloudless sky overhead. And Tristan was doing what he always did on days like these – lounging outside by his family's Olympic-size pool as he soaked up the warm rays of the sun, with no one but Anna to keep him company. He _lived_ for days like these.

Beside him, Anna grinned. "No kidding. So," she glanced at Tristan, her eyes partially hidden behind her Chanel aviator sunglasses. "I heard you're going out with Missy Adams tonight."

Tristan smiled slightly. "What about it?"

She yawned, stretching languorously in the afternoon sun. "I didn't know you were interested in vapid blondes."

"I'm not," Tristan shrugged. "She asked me out, so I said yes. We're going to Josh's party." He stared at Anna for a moment, trying to gauge the expression in her inscrutable eyes. "It's no big deal."

"You do realize this chick's had the major hots for you since fifth grade, right?"

"I'm aware of that," he admitted. "So what, though? It's just a date."

"I'm just saying _she_ might think this is the start of something more," Anna elaborated, rubbing more sun block on her tanned arms.

Tristan gave her his trademark smirk. "Don't worry. It's nothing I can't handle."

"If you say so," Anna sighed. "Just be warned we're talking about the same girl who committed your entire class schedule to memory AND can't stop talking about how perfect you two would be together."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "As I said before, it's nothing I can't handle."

"Okay." Anna got up and made her way to the DuGrey swimming pool, which lay shimmering in the sunlight just a short distance away. Easing herself into the pool's liquid embrace, she sighed happily. Submerging herself briefly, Anna resurfaced and threw a cheeky grin at Tristan. "By the way, I have it on good authority that a certain Mademoiselle Gilmore is single again."

"What?" Tristan sat bolt upright, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. "Who told you?"

"No need to worry yourself over that insignificant detail." Anna swam up to the pool's edge, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Who knows? If you play your cards right, you might actually stand a chance with Rory this time."

Tristan winced, not wanting to remember his many (failed) attempts at capturing Rory Gilmore's interest. But his curiosity was piqued, and he waited to hear more from Anna, who was now swimming unhurried laps up and down the pool. He watched her for a moment, silently wondering why she'd chosen to share that interesting little bit of news with him.

After all, when it came to Tristan's growing infatuation with Rory, Anna had always been less than enthusiastic, although she'd always remained deliberately vague whenever he demanded to know the cause of her disapproval. Tristan had long ago decided Anna simply resented the idea of anyone – especially Rory Gilmore – coming in between the two of them. He didn't blame her, of course. They had known each other all their lives, and in a world of overwhelming social obligations and betrayals, their friendship was one of the few things that kept him sane.

"She'll be at Josh's party tonight."

Tristan blinked, forcibly yanking himself out of his earlier ruminations. "Pardon me?"

With practiced ease, Anna hoisted herself out of the pool, both feet still dangling in the water. "Josh's party tonight…Rory's going to be there."

"That's highly doubtful. She avoids any and all Chilton gatherings like the plague."

"You've been misinformed then." Reclaiming her empty seat beside Tristan, she lay back and closed her eyes.

He stared at her, suddenly wary. She didn't move, seemingly oblivious of Tristan's searching gaze.

"I just thought you'd want to know," Anna said unexpectedly, rolling over on her side to look at her best friend.

"Why?"

Anna shrugged. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you _are_ interested in Rory. And given the turtle-like speed with which you're presently moving vis-à-vis capturing her attention, I figured you'll need all the help you can get."

Tristan raised his eyebrows, perplexed by Anna's matter-of-fact tone. "Since when were you so–"

"Altruistic?"

"Supportive," Tristan clarified.

"Oh. Well," Anna grinned. "It comes with the whole best-friend territory. Besides, I know you prefer to spend all your time fooling everyone around you into thinking it's just a silly little infatuation, but you certainly haven't fooled _me_."

Despite himself, Tristan felt his lips curl into a smile. "Quit trying to psycho-analyse me, Whittington."

"I don't have to, DuGrey. You're not as enigmatic as you'd have people believe."

As Tristan took a moment to mull this over, he couldn't help wondering if there was any truth to what she'd said. Out of necessity (and perhaps even by choice), Tristan had always taken great pains to maintain a sort of detachment in his dealings with other people. It wasn't discourtesy per se; it was simply an aloofness that enabled him to stay at least partially ahead of the crowd and its many wagging tongues – or maybe it stemmed from that ever-present desire to ensure his private life remained private.

Tristan was well aware of the many stories about him that were floating around Hartford. Not that he cared about what people had to say about him, of course. As far as he was concerned, his life within the confines of Chilton and his life outside of it were two contrasting entities, both of which he vigilantly strove to keep separate. But even for Tristan DuGrey – who many believed to be invincible – too much gossip did tend to have its consequences.

"Whatever," he finally said, swiftly changing the subject. "Are you going to Josh's party?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Anna replied, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "The Flavour of the Week wanted me to go with him, but who knows? I might suddenly come down with a mysterious ailment at the last minute."

Oh yes, Anna's Flavour of the Week. Tristan had been so caught up in his own personal affairs that he hadn't spent much time talking to Anna. Consequently, he had no idea who Anna's latest willing victim was. "So who's the guy?"

"Brad Landon," Anna waved a dismissive hand. "He won't last."

"Why?"

She gave him a pointed look. "He's about as fascinating as a can of dog food. I don't know what I saw in him."

"You mean, other than the chiselled abs and the surfer-dude good looks?" Tristan laughed.

"Oh please," Anna scoffed. "I never said I wanted a commitment from Brad." She tapped her chin, giving a great show of being deep in thought. "But the moment I change my mind, rest assured that I'll go beyond skin deep." She looked at him, reflectively. "You know, I've always wanted to ask…"

"What?"

She sat forward, her hands clasped on her knee. "What makes Rory so special?"

The bluntness of her question took Tristan by surprise. He'd talked enough about his attraction to Rory for Anna to be able to deduce the true extent of his feelings. That was how it had always been: he would deliberately avoid saying more than was strictly necessary, and Anna would somehow always be able to figure it out on her own. But she had never questioned him directly as to his reasons for feeling the way he did about Rory.

"She's…different." Seeing the blank expression on Anna's face, Tristan attempted to explain. "I've never met anyone like her. She's not like you and me."

Anna frowned deeply. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"That's kind of not the point. What I mean is…" Sighing in frustration, Tristan shook his head. "You know me. I hate getting into situations like these."

"What sort of a situation?" Anna sweetly inquired. "Falling for someone, or admitting it?"

_Both, to be honest_. But Tristan kept silent, unwilling to divulge more than he already had.

"Tristan, Tristan, Tristan," Anna glanced at him reproachfully. "Give me some credit, will you? I'm not an idiot."

"Meaning?"

"You like her because she's nothing like you, and because she doesn't want you." She shook her head. "You always want what you can't have."

_That sounds about right_, Tristan thought ruefully. He watched her for a moment, secretly wondering if Anna knew more than she was letting on.

"So, still going to Josh's party with Missy?" Anna quirked her eyebrow, the slightest hint of a knowing smile passing across her face.

"Now that I think about it, going stag does seem mighty appealing."

"Smart boy," Anna nodded approvingly. "So here's the plan. We'll go to the party – sans dates – and you will proceed to sweep Rory Gilmore off her feet with your wit and charisma. Agreed?"

"I don't know…" Tristan looked at her, uncertainty clouding his brilliant blue eyes. "Anna, you of all people should know: she hates me with a passion. I think it'll take way longer than just ONE night to make her change her mind."

"Don't worry about it," Anna waved away his doubts with an unconcerned flick of her wrist. "After all, who can resist a DuGrey?"

"Obviously, she can," he pointed out.

"Admittedly, you got off on the wrong foot with her," Anna conceded. "And obviously, she's not a big fan of Tristan-DuGrey-Egomaniac-Extraordinaire."

"Hey, I resent that," Tristan protested, only vaguely offended.

"She strikes me as the sort who's more into Mr-Sweet-and-Sensitive," Anna blithely continued, ignoring his objection. "So be that."

"Anna, when have you ever known me to be sweet _or_ sensitive?"

Exasperation flickered in her bright green eyes. "Quit trying to pass yourself off as such a badass, will you?"

"But I _am_ a badass," Tristan shrugged, grinning slightly. "Just ask anyone in Hartford. Besides, you're cute when you're annoyed."

"You're incorrigible!"

"And you love me for it," Tristan teased, reaching over to pinch her upper arm lightly.

"You _wish_." Anna swatted away his hand, attempting to look stern but failing utterly. "So…let it be known that tonight is the night Tristan DuGrey will _finally_ make his move."

Hearing Anna's confident words, Tristan fell silent once more, his mind racing with all the possibilities that lay before him. He'd make his move, all right. He just hoped he wouldn't crash and burn because of it.

-


	4. Chapter 3

**SUMMARY:** How far are you willing to go for love?

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters – the only thing I came up with was the story line, and a few characters. Chapter title is borrowed from 'The Scientist', by Coldplay.

-

**Chapter 3: Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard…**

Alcohol.

Ear-shatteringly loud music.

A swarm of enthusiastic (albeit mostly _underage_) revellers.

The conspicuous absence of all parental figures.

And a very, VERY big house.

Really, what else did you need for a bitchin' party?

It was just past midnight, and the party at Josh's was in full swing. The entire house was crammed with merry-makers, most of them in varying stages of uninhibited inebriation. There were people _everywhere_ – on the banisters; in the kitchen; on the living room couches. There were even reports of hanky-pankying going on upstairs in the library and in the back garden.

Tristan clutched a beer as he examined the crowd, nodding absently in time to the song pulsating from the massive set of amplifiers stationed all around the room. He took a swig from his bottle, ignoring the boisterous chatter of his friends around him.

_Where is she?_

He forced himself to focus his attention back to Anna, whose nose was wrinkled in distaste as she watched an exceptionally intoxicated girl dirty-dancing on a nearby tabletop.

"Booty alert!" Owen exclaimed, his words slurred, provoking hoots of laughter from the other guys.

"Someone should make it a rule to ban freshmen from these parties," Anna's friend – Kirsten, maybe? Tristan couldn't remember her name – remarked. She paused to glance around. "Look at them. I mean, how _embarrassing_ are they?"

"You know what I think?" Bryan slung an arm around her slender shoulders, much to her evident displeasure. "I think you need to loosen up."

Amused, Tristan watched as the petite brunette stepped away, disgust imprinted on her features. "If by 'loosen up' you mean get drunk and go upstairs with you, then I think I'll pass."

"Ooh, _burn_!"

Tristan joined in the laughter, his eyes still searching the crowd.

_Where is she?_

And that was when he saw her. Rory. A sharp intake of breath, completely involuntary. She was by the doorway, looking a little unsure, a little nervous, almost hiding behind Paris Gellar in her unease. But even as she stood there looking so out of place amidst the noise and people and cigarette smoke, Tristan couldn't remember ever seeing her look more beautiful than she did at that very moment. He tightened his grip on his drink. _Does she even know what she's doing to me?_

"And so Juliet arrives," Anna muttered beside him, "while Romeo stands way over here, not bothering to hide the fact he's gawping at her. Hey Romeo!" A quick, subtle dig of her elbow to his side. "Get your ass over there and talk to her already."

He frowned briefly at her before refocusing his attention to the other side of the room. "I'll talk to her when I'm good and ready, okay?"

He expected Anna to protest and hassle him – why was she so damn _invested_ in this whole thing, anyway? But to his surprise, she didn't say a word, merely gazing at him with a strange, impenetrable look in her eyes. For a moment, it seemed as though she wanted to say something, but then she abruptly looked away. "I'm going to get some vodka."

Tristan touched her shoulder lightly. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

She sauntered off in the direction of the kitchen, and once again, Tristan shifted his line of vision back to the doorway. Surprise and then panic washed over him when he realized Rory was no longer there. Dammit._ I take my eyes off her for one second, and she's gone_.

He finished his drink, and after making sure his friends were adequately distracted, he slipped away, swiftly disappearing into the crowd. Seeing the blonde glowering in one corner with both arms crossed, he walked over and gave her what he hoped was his most disarming smile. "Hey, Paris."

"Tristan," she nodded tersely, her eyes still scanning the room.

"You here by yourself?" A stupid question, really. But he couldn't think of anything else to say, and besides, he was too preoccupied to think of making proper conversation with her.

But Paris didn't seem to mind. "No. Madeline and Louise are somewhere around here."

The words came out before he could think to stop them. "Where's Rory?"

Her shrug was indifferent. "She disappeared a few minutes ago."

_Great._ Knowing Rory and her intrinsic dislike for parties such as these, Tristan was willing to bet she was halfway back to Stars Hollow by now. But he knew better than to let his disappointment show. "You okay?"

"Just _peachy_," Paris replied, her words dripping with sarcasm. "I could've been home doing something worthwhile with my time, but instead I chose to get dragged along to this stupid party. And why? Because my mother thinks I need to work on my people skills. What's she trying to imply here? That I don't have people skills?"

"I find that hard to believe," Tristan deadpanned, only to be met by one of Paris's death glares. "So uh, I'm going outside for some fresh air. Will you be alright by yourself?"

"Sure."

"Okay then." He patted her awkwardly on the arm. "See you around."

He walked away, his progress hindered by a throng of other students ambling in and out of the room. The kitchen was up ahead, and he could see Anna inside, resting against the countertop as she carried on an animated discussion with some guy he didn't recognize. Well, at least she was having a good time.

Pushing open the glass-panelled double doors in front of him, Tristan stepped onto the huge outdoor deck, sucking in the warm night air. Ignoring the many couples drunkenly making out around him, he strode down the side steps and ventured further away to the side of the house, where he would be alone.

_Peace and quiet at last. _

Digging out his pack of cigarettes, Tristan extracted one and brought it to his lips, fumbling in his pocket for a lighter.

"You know, smoking's bad for your health."

Startled, Tristan turned around. Surprise registered on his face when he saw the figure half-hidden in the shadows. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Rory Gilmore ducked her head self-consciously. "I, um–" She cleared her throat, as though embarrassed. "I just wanted to be alone for awhile."

"Well, if you want to be alone…" Tristan took a step back, uncertain. "I mean, I can leave if you want."

"Oh, you don't have to leave," she assured him anxiously, rising from the bench she'd been sitting on.

"Really?" Tristan looked at her doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

He waited for her to change her mind, to tell him to get lost and leave her alone. But instead, she did the unexpected: she _smiled_. "Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't mind some company. But on one condition." And here she looked at him seriously.

Tristan looked at her cautiously. "What?"

"You have to promise to keep any lewd comments to yourself."

"Well…" Tristan paused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I'll do my best."

"You'd _better_." The tiniest of grins spread across Rory's face as she patted the empty space beside her, inviting Tristan to sit down. "So…"

"So," he countered, joining her on the bench.

"This is some party, huh?" she offered, her dainty fingers fidgeting with the thin straps of her purse.

Tristan nodded. "Having a good time?"

Rory reluctantly nodded. "Parties like this aren't exactly my type of thing."

"I figured as much." Tristan leaned back, listening to the muted sounds of the party coming from inside the house. He looked at her, curious. "So what made you decide to come out tonight?"

"I just felt like it, I guess."

"Oh."

They were quiet for a moment, both unsure of what to say. Finally, Rory broke the lull. "This is kind of weird."

"What is?"

"Talking to you, without feeling the urge to hit you," she explained.

Tristan laughed. "Well gee, thanks."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," Rory hastened to add, turning toward him. "What I meant was…we're not exactly friends. All we ever do is fight. And now here we are, talking. That's what makes it weird."

"Well–" Tristan thought this over. He had to be careful now. He couldn't risk ruining his chances with her by saying the wrong thing. "I know I've always given you a hard time at school. And I _really_ need to work on that. But if you don't mind, I'd like for us to be friends."

Rory tilted her head questioningly. "Really?"

"Really."

She contemplated this for a moment. And after what seemed like a lifetime to Tristan, she finally allowed herself to smile. "I'd like that, too."

Relief washed over Tristan, and he beamed. "Glad to hear that."

They began talking, the both of them more at ease with each other now. She was charming, voluble, and Tristan couldn't help admiring the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light. He memorized the way her rich chestnut hair framed her delicate face, the way her full red lips moved as she talked.

"It's a proven fact," Rory was saying, "that _Scary Movie 3_ is way funnier than _Not Another Teen Movie_. And you can't argue with that."

"On the contrary," Tristan smirked. "The Wayan brothers' sense of humour is juvenile, at best."

"Sacrilege!" Rory's eyes widened in mock horror. "Are you honestly telling me you think the guys who wrote _Teen Movie_ are funnier?"

"Not funnier," he took pleasure in correcting her. "Just more mature."

"You did not just say that! Take it back!"

"No way."

"Yes way!"

"No way."

"Yes way–"

Both of them were so caught up in the conversation that they were completely oblivious to the girl standing just a short distance away, wordlessly watching them. She was alone, and in the semi-darkness, her eyes seemed to shine a deeper green. A gentle night breeze tugged playfully at locks of her russet hair, and still she didn't move. She seemed to hesitate, as though unsure of–

Unsure of what, precisely? It was hard to say.

But she had no need to worry. Rory and Tristan were so wrapped up in each other's company that they never noticed her. She watched them for a moment longer, and then quietly – so as not to disturb them – she turned and walked away, her steps resolute as she slowly made her way back into the house.

-


End file.
